Sinful Hands: (Lucas & Chanel #1)

by T. L Smith

  “I need to go home,” I tell him.

  “I’ll drive you. Or you can just stay?” he asks.

  “No, I need to go home. Now.” I should be running out the door after what I just saw and what he told me. Yet, my feet remain plastered to the floor. Why?

  Is what Sailor said true? That it takes someone different to be able to want to be with someone like him? Am I different or just a little fucked-up? I’m not even sure anymore. And those photos, that’s not normal, this is not normal.

  “Thanks for the, um…sex.” I offer him a wave and make my way to the front door. I step out onto the porch and find him right behind me, still naked. I look around and see people walking about, but he has not a care in the world.

  “Take these.” He throws something at me, and I just manage to catch it. It’s the keys to his car. “You remember how to drive, right? From the last time you stole it from me?”

  I nod, speechless.

  “Good. Because I plan to go back to bed. And if you won’t join me—”

  “I won’t,” I cut him off, going to hand him the keys. I don’t want anything of his.

  “I’ll be seeing you, mio per sempre.” He goes back inside, shutting the door behind him. I walk to his car, which is still parked out front, and climb inside.

  My hands rub the steering wheel and I like the way the leather feels.

  Glancing at the house, I see no sign of him as I leave.

  Well, fuck.

  Where is the car?

  I parked it here a few hours ago, but when I came back out to check on it—because hello, shit neighborhood—it was gone.

  Biting my cheek, I taste my own blood.

  How do I tell him his car’s been stolen?

  From my place.

  Will he be mad?

  I’m not sure I want to see him angry. I’ve seen him furious at others, but never at me.

  Walking back inside, I find his number and press call and he answers, sounding half asleep. “Chanel.” He says my name when I don’t speak.

  “So…” I begin, but the rest of the words don’t want to leave my mouth. “Did you pick up your car?”

  “No,” he replies, and I can hear him waking up a little more. “Is my car not with you?”

  “I may have misplaced it.” I groan, banging my head on the wall.

  “It’s hard to misplace a car,” he comments, but his tone gives nothing away. He doesn’t sound upset with me like I thought he would be. “Hold on.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m tracking it.” A sigh leaves me as I hear a few things clicking and then he swears. “You’ll make this up to me.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” I tell him, but stop myself from saying any more since that isn’t exactly true. I could have just stayed with him and this wouldn’t have happened. Or, at least, that would be his reasoning. He stays quiet, and I reluctantly ask, “Fine, what do you want?”

  “You can take the new phone I bought you. And, Chanel, if you throw this one out, I will spank your ass.”

  “This was your plan all along,” I accuse.

  “Yeah, I totally planned for my car to be stolen.”

  “Are you going to get it back?” I ask. “Can I come?”

  “You want to come to get my car?” he asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

  “Yes, if that’s okay.”

  “Sergio is on his way to collect you.” He hangs up.

  Running inside, I slide on some jeans and throw on a baggy shirt after I pull off my nighty. When I walk out of my room, Brody’s sitting on the couch playing his Xbox.

  “You off?” he calls out, and I just nod and walk out the door.

  Sergio is pulling up to the curb when I shut the door behind me. I climb into the front seat and offer him a warm smile. “Hi.” He doesn’t reply, just drives to Lucas’ place in complete silence.

  Lucas approaches the car, typing away on his cell, not paying us any attention.

  “Get in the back,” Sergio says to me, and Lucas looks up.

  “She can stay where she is if she wants.”

  I undo my seat belt and climb into the back. Surprisingly, Lucas gets in the back with me, and he only puts his cell down once we’re moving.

  “Did you sleep?”

  I nod. I tried, but I didn’t get far. All my thoughts were of his hands roaming my body in every which way possible. I’m clearly not telling him that, though.

  “You would have slept better in my bed.”

  “With photos of all your other women? That’s a hard no.” I shake my head, and he reaches into the back pocket of the seat in front of him, then passes me an iPhone box.

  “One more time. I will spank your ass.” I take it from his hand and glance to the window. “Chanel,” he warns, and I can’t help the chuckle that bubbles up from inside me.

  “Calm down, I’m not throwing it out.” I open the box and am met with a light blue iPhone.

  “I’ve seen you wear that color.”

  I’m surprised he remembers. I feel him watching me, so I turn toward him. “Thank you.”

  “That thing you call a phone can’t do anything but call.”

  “It can text.”

  “It can text,” he mimics me with a shake of his head. “It’s a piece of shit. There is another in that pocket.” He nods toward it. “For your brother.”

  “You don’t need to buy us,” I tell him. “I’m not for sale anymore.”

  “It’s a gift, Chanel. For fuck’s sake, take it.”

  I huff as we keep driving. “Where are we going?” I ask. Instead of answering, he takes the cell from my grasp and then makes a grabby hand motion in front of my face. I have no idea what he means, so I sit there, confused with a raised brow.

  “Give me your old cell.” I reach into my pocket and give him my phone. He exhales a soft laugh as he turns it around and pulls the sim card out. “You’ll have to change your number, this sim card won’t work.” He gives me my phone back and then turns on the other and sets it up. “Email.” I rattle off my email, and when he’s done entering it, he looks at me. “Lean in.” I’m confused why he would want me to do that, but I do it anyway. Leaning in close to me, he lifts the cell and then snaps a photo.

  “What did you do that for?”

  “So you can remember who you belong to.”

  “I belong to me, Lucas,” I say back to him, my eyes locked on his.

  “Wrong. You. Are. Mine. And if you think any other man will be touching you, think again. I’ll tear him limb from limb and make you watch.” He smirks, then hands me my cell phone back.

  “You’re all kinds of fucked-up.”

  “Why, thank you. The compliments you keep throwing at me do so much for my ego.”

  “I’m sure you don’t need that ego stroked in the least. I’m sure you do that enough yourself.”

  Sergio coughs from the front seat, and I see him trying to hide his smile.

  “This may be true, but I do enjoy keeping you around.”

  “How nice. Did you enjoy keeping around the other women too?” I tease him.

  “No, just you.”

  “I can officially die a happy woman that I, a hooker from a shit neighborhood, has caught your eye and kept it…” I pause for dramatic effect, “… for the time being. How lucky am I.”

  “Don’t call yourself that,” he commands.

  “What? A hooker?” I ask. “I was. Or have you conveniently forgotten?”

  “I have not. Your past seems to remind me, though.”

  “What’s that meant to mean?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” he snaps.

  And his whole demeanor changes.

  He’s now angry.

  At me?

  27

  Lucas

  We pull up to the house and I see my car sitting out front. Sergio shakes his head when he realizes whose house it is. Chanel gets out and walks around the car until she’s next to me.

  “Did they want you to
find it?” she asks, confused. “It’s just sitting there, parked in the driveway.” The all-white house and the empty yard make it look like no one is home as the lights are off, but we know better. I enter through the gate with Chanel behind me and stalk up to the door, knocking three times with force.

  The door opens, and there she stands.

  “Angela.” She bites her bottom lip and then glances at Chanel. Her nose lifts in disgust before she opens the door for me to walk in.

  “Just you,” she says.

  “You don’t get to call the shots here, you know that.” I grab Chanel by the hand and walk her in with me, with Sergio following closely behind. Angela leads us to her living room, and she sits on one of the sofas, picking up her glass of red wine.

  “I would offer you one, but I’m sure this isn’t a social call.”

  “You are correct, this is far from social.” I can feel Chanel’s eyes on me, but I keep my focus on Angela. “So—”

  “You never called me back,” she interrupts. “I had to get your attention somehow.” Chanel tenses next to me. “You obviously know what a good lover this man is, correct?” Angela’s eyes are on Chanel, but Chanel gives her nothing in return.

  Smart girl.

  “Angela, you suck cock. It’s what you’re good at.” Her eyes flare, and she squeezes the glass in her hand a little tighter. “Don’t try to tell yourself otherwise. You sucked Keir’s, then you came to me. Who’s next?”

  “I should have lit your car on fire,” she remarks, her knuckles turning white.

  “That would have been a bad move. I would have come in and killed you immediately.”

  “Fuck you,” she spits.

  “Again, you’ve tried that. Are you that lonely without your worthless piece of shit of a husband here anymore?” Keir killed her husband for betraying him, but it wasn’t the betrayal that pushed Keir over the edge to kill him. It was the fact that one night at a club, Romarc had gone up to Sailor and spoke to her.

  That was Keir’s breaking point.

  Romarc also thought he could kidnap Keir’s bitch of an arranged fiancée, Paige. But again, he didn’t care until Romarc came near Sailor. Then all bets were off.

  “You know he’s mad at you,” I inform her, referring to Keir.

  “He can fuck off.”

  “Now, now…don’t get your knickers in a twist.” I shake my head slightly. “You know if he walked up those stairs and was at your door, you would take him in a heartbeat.”

  “You killed my men,” she screams at me.

  “Why were you making trouble, Angela? Did you want me here? Or maybe it was Keir you wanted here.”

  She stands, throwing her wine at my face. “I hate you.”

  “I feel like all the ladies say that to him,” Chanel pipes in, it’s quiet but everyone heard the words. I turn to face her and see her shrugging. “What? It’s true. Do you have any friends?”

  “You’re my friend.”

  “Lies. I am not.”

  “Okay, well, you like it when I fuck you.” I hear heels clacking away from us as I stare at her. How can she mesmerize me so much? She bites her cheek, and I lift my hand to touch her lip. “Stop biting yourself.” Her cheek pops out and she looks at me as if she’s truly seeing me. “You do it when you’re nervous or lost in thought.”

  “I fuck you out of pity,” she states after I feel her take a breath, but it doesn’t come out as fiercely as she wants it to.

  My finger touches her lip and pulls it down. “Did that lie taste sour leaving your lips?” I lean in, and she holds still.

  “Not as sour as the lies that leak from yours.”

  We both know that’s a lie.

  We both hear the click of a gun and turn to find Angela standing behind us, gun ready and aimed in hand. She doesn’t have it pointed at me, though. No, it’s pointed at Chanel.

  “Angela…”

  “I see the way you look at her. It’s the way Keir looks at Sailor. I see it. Romarc never looked at me like that. He and all his harlots. I want someone to want me the way you want her.” She pauses, glancing at me. “You would kill for her.”

  “I would,” I agree without a doubt. But what she doesn’t know is we all have our weak spots. Chanel may be one of mine, but not the only one. “If you don’t drop it.”

  “You’ll what? Kill me? Keir never did, so why would you?” She drops her head to the side, then glances back at Chanel. I see her finger twitch, and just before she can pull the trigger, I reach for the gun and grip it. While she’s distracted with trying to wrestle the gun back, I shoot her in the stomach. But I am too late. In the struggle, her finger was able to squeeze the trigger and her gun went off.

  My frantic gaze searches out Chanel, and I see her eyes wide as she stands there covered in blood before she falls to the floor.

  “Where?” I grab for her to help lay her down, but she just stares at me. “Chanel. Where are you hurt?” I ask her again as my eyes scan her from top to bottom.

  “I…”

  Sergio is keeping an eye on Angela. He speaks to me in Italian, asking me if he can end her life.

  “Finiscilo,” I tell him to finish it.

  Chanel’s eyes lock on mine, and I want to lean in, but first, I reach for her shirt and lift it up to check for wounds. There’s nothing on her stomach. “You’re not hurt?”

  “You shot her in front of me. Like she was nothing.” Her brows pull together. “Again.” Now she’s mad. “The next time you kill someone in front of me, I will knee you in the balls so fucking hard you won’t know which way is up.” The fire is back in her eyes. “I’m sick of being covered in blood when I am around you. Sick of it, you hear me?” She stands and glares down at Angela. “Think the crazy bitch would mind if I used her shower?” I look down at Angela to find her gone, her eyes wide open but they’re unseeing.

  “No,” I say, standing to follow her.

  “Don’t even fucking think about it.” She stomps off and up the stairs to what I guess are the main rooms. I hear a door slam before I look away.

  “Keir is going to be pissed,” Sergio remarks.

  “No, he won’t. He basically told me to do this.”

  “Did he say to fix it?”

  “Is that not what I did?” I question.

  “Looks to me like you killed her, not so much…you know, fixed it.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Semantics.” I make my way to the stairs.

  “If she knees you in the balls, should I call an ambulance?” Sergio laughs.

  “You’d be best calling the morgue with what I’m about to do to her.”

  “You are so lost,” I hear Sergio mutter as I make my way up the stairs.

  Her clothes are lying on the floor, meaning she must have torn them off as she walked up. The water is running as I make my way into the bathroom. Her back is to me, and her head is under the water as she washes her soft, long locks.

  “I think you should touch yourself,” I tell her.

  She groans loudly. “You really don’t listen to a word I say, do you?” But her hand moves like on autopilot to her breast at my words.

  “No, but did you expect any less?” I sit on the closed toilet seat as she turns to face me, her body on full display. The more things I plan to do to that body, I can only imagine.

  “I guess not.”

  “Now, if you would be so kind…touch yourself.”

  “How about no?” she answers, but her hand moves anyway. She rubs her breasts before she drops her hand between her legs and starts moving, and my cock strains against my pants.

  “Now, tell me, how much do you want me to bend you over right now and take your sweet-ass pussy into my mouth and have it for lunch, dinner, and dessert?” She presses herself up against the shower door, the steam coating the glass, her breasts now squashed against it and her hand just visible as she rubs her clit.

  “Mio per sempre.”

  “Yes,” she says on a moan, and I see her head lolling back—it�
�s what she does when she’s close.

  “See, you like the way I speak to you. The way I touch you.” I stand and approach the shower, and her eyes pop open. “Remember that when I bring you back to mine tonight to fuck some better manners into you.”

  I walk out and hear her groan as I leave.

  28

  Chanel

  Quickly, I wrap a towel around me as I get out of the shower. Lucas is sitting on her bed, cell in hand, when I exit the bathroom.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Playing Clash of Clans.” Umm, okay, whatever that is. “Clothes are in the dresser.” He nods, then goes back to his cell. I open the drawer and pull out a dress. When I see the brand, I quickly shove it back inside and close the drawer.

  “All her shit is going to be designer, just pick something so we can go.”

  I turn to see him still on his cell, whatever he’s doing his interest is not wavering, so I do what any woman would.

  “Don’t pull that face at me either.” He looks up to confirm I was pulling a face of annoyance at him.

  “I don’t wear this shit.”

  “Feel free to put on your old stuff then if it’s an issue.”

  “My shit is covered in blood, no thanks to you,” I bite back.

  “You sat there,” he replies.

  The audacity of him. I grab my dress and throw it at his head. It does nothing but cover up his cell phone. He shrugs it off, standing and sliding his cell into his pocket.

  “I just can’t with you.”

  “But you can.”

  “No, I really can’t.” I shake my head.

  He reaches into the drawer and pulls out another dress, his face inches from mine as he stares at me. “I could kiss you right now.”

  “I wouldn’t allow it,” I tell him, but my eyes betray me and flick to his lips, then back to his eyes.

  “But you would.”

  Damn him, he’s not wrong.

  Lucas pulls back and hands me the dress. “Put this on. The clean-up crew has arrived.” Then he walks out.